Forever lost...

A slip between the cup and the lip,
Seemed to have a rather tragic end,
He dreamed of romance, looked in a sacred casket,
Within two peoples hearts,
She dreamed of love for the world and lust for the wooers....

There were men who loved a piece of chunky meat,
Dreamed of devouring her flesh black and blue,
There were men who thought of true love,
A desire for her in the deepest of nights and a speck of light in the break of dawn,
Then there was her who was numb to it all...

The mighty fall of love proved to rather melancholic after all,
A battle between instinct and acquired taste,
Swirling within the wind of hopes and dreams,
Which paints a rather perfect image,
Not too far from the truth not too close to impulsive perception...

This magic potion was cursed by the demons hands,
Saw it create love and wanted to tear it apart,
Used its broken pieces to wipe its tears,
Used its changing colors to soothe its needs,
Locked it away and denied its consumption to its creators...

The curse of lost love has diverged from its path,
Soon to find it again,
Shall find those who seek the burning ray of passion,
Shall shrike lovers just to created a void,
Of days lived many times over and lone nights...

Noir...

As her knight fades into the night,
A thousand questions begin to unfurl,
Dressed in deceit and debauchery,
Masked in the promises of love...

Sensuality was one with his blood,
Sowed his seeds like fierce arrows,
Arrows aimed at an innocent woman's heart,
In all her love and virginal faith...

As primitive as the Earth,
She wanted to sense the fertile fire within him,
Caressing the land which bore the soil of insolence,
She started her expedition to the heart of the motherland...

The motherland that thrived within its own ruins,
The Motherland where life began,
The Motherland that saw deep destruction,
The Motherland that bore cold, loveless children...

She dug deep within the Motherlands soul,
Only to be left wounded, empty and shattered,
Then she headed back,
She never took the dark road, wound within its own mysteries.. 

The last laugh...

The martyrs have weaken their stance, 

Subconsciously intimidated by the days of only wounds ahead,

Only moments to go until the march to glory,

The provinces of gold had intoxicated  them to the point of the sleep of reclusion...

The breeds of higher order have now not a reason to opine,

They begin their day with the solace of futility,

Commence to a voice of bigotry,

Until a different kind of transition...

For letters written in blood,

Have been defeated by the words inscribed in bonds,

Seldom acquainted with the world of gossip,

Placidly waiting in the numerous post offices of decay...

The time had begun for the fancy air of romance,

I will gift you a kiss if you please,

Embodied with the spirit of youth and glamour,

Made to suit carnal whims and mundane woes...

I shall wait for the end of your crude fantasy,

Which shall be made to sleep upon my arrival,

Awakened when I am away,

Which shall continue to torment you as you twitch and turn in your grave,

But not for too long...

Let me feed you copper candy,

So very fierce and inedible,

Let me occupy your senses with the scent of my love,

Superficial enough to slip away...

No impact has been as great,

As great as my non- existent significant other,

Who took me back to the rustic air of childhood,

As I grew many steps away from naivety...

Very few roots of passion have traced back,

The rest have faded away with the night,

Trampled on with time,

Burdened by mortality,

Just to suit the flow to the last laugh...

Hollow wallow

This dungeon is strange,
With a passage of grey,
Artless shadows that hover in its very essence,
The creek of life and death is so narrow,
To live this eccentric analogy...

Crops of disintegration were sown in the soil of the beast,
While my flower got rotten in utter disgust,
His stem wasn't enough to comfort me,
There's only an angle of depression from here...

I shall osculate this nutrition,
Introspection for the agriculturist and philosophers,
I shall assimilate all its power,
I want to cease the fire of resurrection...

Deep beneath our mother,
There is this magnet,
This core of civilisation,
Waiting to be elevated to the celestial ocean...

The salt of the waters of immersed fate,
That explores this crystal,
It can cast hate,
The germs that can battle for the crucifiction of dawn...

Wind that has gone deeper into the hollow,
While the lights want to battle sorrow,
While a different casket opened the casket to another world,
But then a shadow was left to wallow...

Picture from the net- ( amazingonly.com )

Fate and folklore...

She usurped my place,
Spun her own robes,
My place as the spinner of fate,
The malleability of gold...

Basked in silent glory,
The new blacksmith,
The unfinished story,
The power of wits...

Sensitive of sound,
Sensitive to light,
Ten steps down,
We see what's on the outside...

The magic of folklore,
The mask of values,
In a box of pride we store,
The great laws of a few...

The more we penetrate,
That makes us one step ahead,
She's the new spinner of fate,
They write only what the exceptional have said...

Painting from the net- ( dyna-mike.net )

From Eden, with grace...

She left Eden, the land of Lillie's and lullabies,
She missed hell by one step,
She came to Earth with her seducing eyes,
In golden stardust she slept,
There was the maze,
The wide staircase.

Candle sticks with large lit candles,
A fine glass of wine which she had to handle,
She had come from golden Eden,
Silk robes that she wore for him,
A blend of stardust which she had to sleep in,
Was she really free from sin?

Stardust on her eyes,
Visually stimulating smiles,
Lips as red as wine,
The winds dance and the melody of the chimes,
With fine cutlery they shall dine,
All in one night.

Licking her lips,
Swaying her hips,
Walking across the bridge,
Waiting at midnight from him,
Her enchanting voice,
She arrived from Eden with grace and poise.

They'll be meeting at supper,
For love breaks all reasons for suffer,
He'll be waiting there at midnight,
Waiting in the moonlight,
They'll their have dessert in paradise,
They'll wed on the moon.

Emotion undefined.

Love, it's abstract,
it sets us on the right track.
We may never know when love starts to grow,
we may love the unloved before.

Love for a person,
love for a thing,
love for loss,
love for what we win.
Love for the daisy,
love for the image hazy.

Is love something we gather?
Is love something we've got?
Is love something we have after we've gone?
Or love in the given time slot?

With all these questions,
I'd still rather leave love undefined,
love is better than mighty good wine,
as for me, I hope I've got lots of love to find,
but love this profound emotion is still better undefined.

Picture from the net ( http://images.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.smashingapps.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/love-wallpaper.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.smashingapps.com/2008/02/13/17-awesome-and-colorful-resources-for-valentines-day.html&usg=__vqxLuAC0gqHCHB1jUCEmYcjdkMA=&h=375&w=500&sz=76&hl=en&start=14&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=QuzuyM4xYwAAFM:&tbnh=98&tbnw=130&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlove%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1)